When I was growing up in the Pink Palace Housing Project in the rough Fillmore District of San Francisco, my father's role modeling for me consisted of providing food on the table and a roof over my head. From the time I was a child up to his death in 1999, we never had a single conversation about our relationship, the birds and the bees, my life growing up, or anything besides supporting the Giants and the Niners. So, by the time my daughter and only child was born in 1987, I had decided that I would try to nurture and support her and provide her the fatherly support that my dad was unable to provide to me.

From the moment my daughter was born, I was on a mission to define a new more supportive father role in her life. This past April she turned 18, and I can honestly say that besides nursing her, I did everything I could to support and nurture my daughter, in spite of the fact her mom and I divorced 12 years ago. Since she was born, I regularly woke up to feed her, changed her, bathed her, got her off to school, shopped for/with her for bras (waiting in the bra section while she tried them on while women looked at me like I was some sort of pervert), chaperoned dances, accompanied her and her best friend to Usher concerts, met and assessed her other friends, talked to her about who she was crushing on, encouraged her when her crush was not returned, taught her how to drive, talked to her recent dates about whether Jay-Z or Nas was the better hip/hop lyricist, and talked very openly and directly to her about sex and the responsibilities that go with it.

My relationship with my daughter was not a once every two weekends relationship. I don't criticize fathers who have that arrangement. It was just never enough for me. Since 1992, my ex-wife and I have had a 50/50 two-week/two-week arrangement that has worked as well as any divorce situation can work. The only problem we have ever had was trying to steal some of the other parent's time.

The point to all of this is my daughter and I are very close. Genuinely close. As anyone who goes through a divorce understands, a great deal of guilt and feelings of failure go with having a failed marriage. There is also the accompanying loss of prestige that marriage brings as well as the gossip and scrutiny that goes with your life being an open book for all of your former friends. Throughout all of that torture, my daughter maintained her faith and trust in me as her dad. Her love has always been unconditional and for the last 18 years her love has been a major factor in keeping me motivated to deal with the struggle of life each day. Now, she has just graduated from high school and before the summer is out, she will be gone. Attending a university in Alabama, far, far away from here.

I have spent the last 18 years preparing her mentally and spiritually and preparing myself financially for her to go away to college. Now she is leaving, and I have very mixed emotions about it. I am so very happy for her. She got into a prestigious school with a difficult science major. She loves the school and I know she is going to do very well there, but the thought of her leaving causes so much anxiety for me. Did I prepare her to be on her own? Does she know how to budget properly? How will she deal with the adversity of studies and dealing with difficult people without me to protect her? What about the young males who will immediately try to pounce on her?

From my side of the fence, I will no longer have her here to talk to. We can't go to IHOP late on a Friday night and clown up the place. No more helping her study on Thursday nights at Plantation Soul Food. No more exchanging CDs. No more hanging with her and her friends downtown. The one person that I can be imperfect with is leaving me… Plus, what value do I now have since my only child is going to be on her own and won't need me as much as she previously did?

I guess this is the part of the story where I am supposed to write that I have figured out some peace and compromise that will permit me to continue to properly support my daughter in the next phase of her growing-up process, but I don't have anything like that to write. In truth, on the outside I am 6 foot 3 and 220 pounds, but on the inside I am afraid of what is to come. My daughter, having just left her comfort zone of high school, is nervous about her transition and as the dutiful parent, I very impressively explained to her that her fear is natural because she is going through a transition. But I haven't yet expressed to her my fears. She asked me the other day what was wrong with me, and I dismissed the topic.

My solution at this point is to do what I have always done with my baby girl. Sit her down and tell her that her dad is not perfect and that I know she is going to do so well in school and life, but that I am afraid because letting go is not an easy thing to do when you love someone so much. I will tell her that I cannot control my thoughts, but I can control my actions and that is why I bought her a car and I am prepared to send her off in August. However, in my mind I will be going through my own transition and adjustment period. I will tell her that I love and trust her judgment, but I will still worry because I know from my own experiences how mistakes are made. Finally, I will tell her that I will think about her everyday. We have the Verizon free phone to phone plan with free long distance for a reason (which is why I just upgraded her phone for her) and she better know that if she ever needs me for anything, just like when she was a baby with an ear infection, I am right on the next plane to be by her side.

Ahjamu Umi is a husband, father, and political activist. He has worked and contributed towards community development while living in Africa, Europe, and the Caribbean. He has mentored and successfully influenced dozens of youth in the Sacramento area for the last 22 years.